The Dagara people and others have some seeds that have no names. Naming them destroys them. They are referred to, rather, with relational function words. These seeds have ‘roles’ in relation to other seeds or gardens… such as protector, guardian, nurturer, instructor, mother, father, and so on. This may appear merely superstitious or primitive… but those perspectives belie the facts: it is an advanced -set of modes- of nonordinary intelligence, sensing and relation. Modes held at once as traditional ‘treasures’ and developmental paths, each with their associated opportunities and dangers.

I ask that you note the strange care with language carefully, because this is an example of linguistic hygiene. Something we have none of. A Western person might remark that villagers seem to have little or no sense of clinical hygiene. Westerners, however -are not even moderately aware of the necessities of linguistic hygiene or the counterparts associated with knowledge.

The Dagara people here carefully circumscribe a feature of linguistic force: they will not render the identity into something like a label, but instead, use a term that describes relation, what something -does- rather than ‘is or is called’. There are some features of intelligence and relation that -require this-, for if the other choice is made, they collapse, and no longer act as force-carriers for ‘the other side of the mind’ — here, in the world of the token, the manipulable, the name. We have not yet even discovered this principle, let alone become adept at it.